Peace Be With You

This weekend has been lovely. Yesterday was spent snuggling animals, sporadic cleaning that amounted in a tangible difference, Gilmore Girls marathon, The Crown on Netflix, OU football and yet another underwhelming experience with Order Up Norman. (NEVER AGAIN AND I MEAN IT THIS TIME)

Throughout all of that peace, it also had that overriding energy that burbles up when travel is imminent.

The check list of things needed, things to accomplish, places to be.

Packing is almost finished for me. Mark will being about 3am tomorrow. Because that’s how he rolls.

I’ll deliver Winnie to Cori and Jess for a week of what we all only hope is fun and laughter and zero mishaps.

Tonight we get to hear Slaid Cleaves in The Depot once again. That man can make a song, sing a song, take you to church with a song.

Traditionally the last show right before Thanksgiving is the one filled with so much magic it is palpable. I can’t wait.

I’ve got us checked in for our super early flight. We get to be with family for a week that includes Harry Potter World, some amazing sight seeing,and ends with Thanksgiving. That makes my heart soar.

There is, amid all the bullshit, a newfound sense of peace in my heart.

For that I am so very thankful.

Be blessed this week, be kind and speak to each other with words of love. For many it will not be easy to sit across from family, this time has been so full of toxic energy it will be an effort. For others it will be a mixture of duty and dread and carbs.

Whatever your scenario, I send you thoughts of love and light.

Rise UP together.


Travel Log 2016

We’re THIS CLOSE to being on vacation for multiple days. THIS CLOSE.

This year has been an epic year for travel for us, and while I do think that the more prudent choice would’ve been to save that money for a house in Colorado, I wouldn’t change a thing. Next year we scrimp and save. Next year we stay put as much as possible.

Until we move.

Monday we head to San Diego for the week with family that I maybe see once a year  and that is our final splurge for 2016.

Tuesday I will be with my cousins at HARRY POTTER WORLD OH MY SWEET LORDAHMERCY!!!

I counted it up last week and we have traveled together or solo almost every single month this year.

Jan: Colorado exploring the neighborhoods trip

Feb: Mark went to Folk Alliance, we took the train to Dallas/Ft. Worth for our anniversary

March: stayed home

April: DC

May: stayed home

June: Cousinpalooza

July: I went back to Colorado and saw Dolly @ Red Rocks

August: stayed home

September: Santa Fe/Pagosa Springs Four Corners Folk Fest

October: Colorado to see the Raley’s and check out more neighborhoods

November: San Diego for Thanksgiving

December: mostly home but some travel to Ark for family holidays.



While 2016 has taken it’s fair share of shots at us, removing some of our favorite people from the planet, that fucking election and the fall out, ugh…it’s actually been one that I’ve dreamed of for so long.

Having a partner who loves to travel, sleeping in nice places as well as in forests and willing to be the one to say ok and the one to say LETS GO!

For that, I give thanks.

It’s Thanksgiving potluck at the office today.

I’m wearing soft pants.

Happy Thursday ya’ll.

Away From The Things of Man

Did anyone besides SP, Audra and myself see Joe vs the Volcano?

I remember the three of us, and I think it was only the three of us, sitting in the theatre just loving every second of that movie. I think that for awhile in the world, we were the only three. It’s got it’s own little cult following now. I’ve seen quotes sprinkled throughout social media this week, they always make me smile.

Patricia: My father says that almost the whole world is asleep. Everybody you know. Everybody you see. Everybody you talk to. He says that only a few people are awake and they live in a state of constant total amazement.

The flotsam and jetsam of a life shared bubbles up in my brain at the craziest of times. This week has been an opportunity for many of them to rise up, what with all the reflection and all of the new that came around.

It’s a reminder to me.

Though we may feel wonky, uncomfortable and downright afraid, we have each other. For those of you that aren’t feeling wonky, uncomfortable and downright afraid you’re likely not brown skinned or have loved ones that are,  not gay or have loved ones that are, not raising a transgender child or have loved ones that are, not…well the list could go on right? These are legitimate fears. Not some kind of fear mongering crying of the wolf by the side that lost.

It’s when I get caught up in the frizzle of the storm that I reach for one of those pieces of flotsam and jetsam.

Angelica: Would you like to hear one of my poems?

Joe Banks: Sure.

Angelica: Long ago, the delicate tangles of his hair… covered the emptiness of my hand… Would you like to hear it again?

Joe Banks: Ok.

Angelica: Long ago, the delicate tangles of his hair… covered the emptiness of my hand.

and I laugh.

and I send a text of love, or a quote from a favorite tv show, or like a post or just say I Love You but I am STRUGGLING.

I understand the need to rage and point fingers and say DON’T EVER TALK TO ME AGAIN.

I understand the fear and the pit in our stomach for our children and those that we hold close.

I understand the maniacal reading of everything on the internet and posting and reposting and saying SEE I TOLD YOU SO.

I don’t have any answers.

I slept a lot yesterday and last night. My soul was beyond weary and flat ass exhausted.

But today, I awoke to a morning filled with sunlight and laughter and dog breath. I get it.

I see crunchy leaves that resisted the urge to show off with bright colors and just said fuck it and dropped to the ground. I get that too.

We’re going away from the things of man for a short time and I cannot wait.

Patricia: I wonder where we’ll end up?

Joe Banks: Away from the things of man, my love. Away from the things of man.

Tonight the moon will be beautiful, big and bright. I will look up and I’ll think of my friends who are always with me as I quote:


Joe Banks: Dear God, whose name I do not know – thank you for my life. I forgot how BIG… thank you. Thank you for my life.

Just Say Thank You.

Holy fucking hell you guys. Remember when I was telling you how my soul was full of friends and laughter and memories from our USAO reunion just a few days ago?

Boy that went to hell in a handbasket, didn’t it?

I have emotional whiplash from the past 7 days.

I have so many words about the reunion…still. More quotes and lines from Blazing Saddles.

I have so many words about the election day itself. The pride and energy and emotion that I felt in casting my ballot. In watching the energy spread across my newsfeed. The connection and conversation and excitement.

I have so many words about Confidence Con, a new project that I am so grateful to be working on with a group of women who are mighty and fierce and focused.

I have so many words of pain. Of heartbreak…like…Schmobby Schmathaway level heartbreak ya’ll. This shit is real.

I have so many words about the past 48 hours.

I magically scheduled a free float therapy session for last night after work. That was the most insightful shit I’ve done in years.

Have you floated yet? Sensory Deprivation Therapy. Float Therapy. Goonie Goo Goo Awesome Therapy.

It was super weird, and at first I had to force myself to stay in the water because what the hell was I doing? But then things shifted. Maybe I went to sleep. I had a little floaty pillow and it felt so good. I started thinking about feeling my legs.

Couldn’t feel them.

I started thinking about feeling my arms.


The water is at body temperature. There is 900 lbs of epsom salt in the tub. It’s funky and awkward at first but then it began to be super awesome. My breathing was effortless. The rage and crap floated out of my head and thoughts of creativity, and art and future projects and peace and friends and travel filled my space.

I floated. I moved my joints and listened to my ankles crack in the water. I heard my heartbeat in a steady thump thump thump.

I think I fell asleep again. Or maybe I was super enlightened without being stoned. I dunno.

But after it was over, I was really sad to let anything else in. Any noise or talking or music or light. I wanted to stay in that safe, peaceful bubble.

I can’t wait to do it again.

Today I turned 46 years old.

I awoke to breakfast in bed and coffee.

I was taken to lunch by my amazing girls at work. I was gifted with perfectly chosen gifts. I have candles and junior mints galore.

Mark and I ate at a super delicious place for dinner tonight.

Yet the talk always turns to the ick. To the children who are calling brown kids names. To the grown humans who are painting the swastikas on walls.

OH. And in as many days I have had to reset my Apple password, my work sign on password and about three more.


I’m so sad and weary.

I told Mark tonight that I was thinking about writing and we talked about this space and how I hadn’t written much the past year. “But that blog post you wrote after Harvest Fest…Woah.” he said. 

Funny that he brought it up.

Because I’ve been thinking about it too. More like thinking of the sermon I referenced in that post. The one about the loaves & fishes.

About when Jesus wanted to feed the multitudes and all he got was a measly fish and half ass loaf of stale bread.

Yet he gave thanks.

It wasn’t what he asked for. It wasn’t what he needed. It wasn’t what he wanted.

Yet he gave thanks.

And only then, did it become enough.

Only when he gave thanks for what he didn’t get, did it provide what was needed.


I’m trying ya’ll.

I’m trying really fucking hard to give thanks for what I didn’t ask for.

I’m trying really hard to not let fear win. To focus on what I can do with my life to make the world a better place. To focus on how I can lead a meaningful existence.

That’s what I started saying over and over last night in the floating pod thingy.

Thank you.  breath in. Thank you. breath out. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. 

Today I’m calling it a win.

I am grateful today for technology that allows my world to be full of balloon flying, love filled texts, phone calls that end with tearful love and emotion, great gobs of light, cat videos and corgi butts on a facebook page,  and for Patron Saint Tina candles.

And that’s where I’ll leave it.

My little family and I are going to pack up the teardrop and go away from the things of man this weekend.

We’ll take some long walks. Build roaring fires. Have camp coffee.

Talk of the future.

And give thanks.

Who Tells Your Story

I’m about 48 hours out from USAO Homecoming 2016 and I have to say, my body still aches a bit from the laughter. This one was a true reunion  in that for the first time, I was on that campus that I love so well with my people.

It was a coming together for many of us almost 20 years in the making, I think it’s been 17 years since I’ve seen Greg in real life. Joe I have seen in the last 10 years.  We all connect on social media but this was honest to god, facebookless, real life face to face connection.

We were a Bruce Springsteen song.

In fact at one point in the first night at the shitty little bar at the former Best Western, I’m pretty sure I put a $20 in the juke box and we heard some Bruce.

Who the hell can remember. one two three not me.

Memories flowed as fast as the booze. We told stories, sad ones, funny ones, hopeful ones. We remembered what the other forgot. We filled in the blanks. I met new loves of my old friends and they turned into instant friends. I reconnected with the guys who I only knew because of the ex-husband I followed to that campus. I reconnected with the girls who were the cool girls, the pretty girls, the ones I always wanted to know.

I got to induct my friend Joe into the alumni hall of fame.

I got to eat brunch at the fanciest house I’ve ever been in. . . bigger than the Blue Banana…that kind of house.

On top of all of that, I got to serve alongside my fellow board members who I genuinely care about and love spending time with. Homecoming isn’t for sissies. It. Is. Exhausting. This board is engaged and we do some work. We also have a large time while we do it.

The hangovers were spectacular. The laughter was even better.

As I drove home, Chickasha in the rear view, the smell of honky tonk karaoke and “just one more” still in my hair, I was listening to Hamilton.

and while No one should be surprised by that…these lines kept ringing in my heart:

Let me tell you what I wish I’d known
When I was young and dreamed of glory
You have no control:

Who lives
Who dies
Who tells your story?

As I sat around the table that final night, having heard how my friend quit drinking vats of vodka because he became a husband and a dad, how he doesn’t miss one ballgame of his kid’s, as I listened to how two gorgeous souls found each other as they walked out of the fire and ash, as I was reminded why Etch is called Etch, laughing as we had shots that HEYWAITTHATDIDNTSUCK…I thought how grateful I am that these are the ones who will tell that story. (if we can remember the damn thing)

So many stories. Mine. His. Hers. All different.

But for a few days…connected.

One story.

And holy hell did we tell it.

My liver hurts. My kidneys are pissed.

But oh man is my heart full.


GO VOTE tomorrow ya’ll.

History has it’s eyes on you.

It’s that Feckin’ Mercury in Retrograde Again!

Apparently Mercury is in Retrograde again.

This has become the equivalent of a week of crazy PMS only to see what has been causing the crazy and the dawning in your mind of Ohhhhhhhhhh. Well now it all makes sense!

I’m not sure how long this bitch has been retrograding but this vacation was perfectly timed.

I am weary of being surrounded by negative energy, shitty communication and just general all around funk. Work has the usual stresses that just comes with this time of year. Budgeting. No money because: non-profit in Oklahoma.  Audit. But this year it has been soul-sucking.  And whatever it is…is just pounding on every single person up there. It’s hard. For everyone.

And apparently Mercury isn’t helping, for fecks sake.

My hope is that this long weekend will refuel all of us.  I know this time away will do some healing good for my soul. Isn’t that the way the Universe works though? The hours leading up to refreshment will just suck you dry. Cosmically designed to make us appreciate what we have in all forms.

Sitting by the fire, conversations with friends, getting time away with my husband. That man grounds me and talks me off the ledge with such grace it’s like his super power. We have plans for this life and talking about them makes me excited. Being away from the things of man. That excites me.

I’ve turned off my work phone. I will have mine on, for emergencies and photos but my goal is to stay away from the internets once we get to the mountains. I’ve got some books to read. Some podcasts to listen to. Some music to enjoy.

This time tomorrow I’ll be surrounded by a national forest and will need long sleeves.

Take THAT Mercury!



That was TODAY???

The past few weeks have been frenetic. There have been networking events, celebrations, promotions for a major work event, juggling a bunch of different work styles and trying to keep ahead of the game, Mom’s knee surgery, a trip to see her, and the fall out from the last week with anxiety rearing it’s ugly head. Oh and the menopause and rage and stabby hormones.

Ya’ll I straight up forgot about a board meeting yesterday at my alma mater. I could have sworn it was next week. Or today. But never did I think it was yesterday. Not once. Just a blank page of nothing in terms of my memory and figuring out what goes where.

I said more than once yesterday, that I’ve got to get centered. I’ve got to slow it down and get focused and get to the point where I’m living this life vs. this life living me. It’s bonkers.

I know it’s a combo of all the things. I’m worried about Mom. I have guilt that Taryn is shouldering it all. I’m dealing with the crazy hormones or lack thereof and I swear to gawwwwwd I could’ve stabbed people the past two weeks. Sweaty and Stabby. That’s a hateful combination and yet…that was me.


I’m in need of meditation. of some lady yoga. of some energy work. of some breathing. of some laughing. of some sweet mountain air (just a few weeks and I’ll be there)

Today I’m meal prepping. Roasting some chickpeas and planning food so that I quit going off the rails every single day with that. Sheesh.

The air is lovely. The temps are civilized and I’m taking a minute to recognize that each breath is a gift.

Happy Sunday, ya’ll.

Road Trip Fun

Road tripping to vacation is always fun.

Last week we had music, we sang, we laughed, we made our own inside jokes, we heard You Tubes that had us doubled over weeping,

The ride home was not as fun.

We all just wanted out of the car. We had exhausted our music choices. Nothing was satisfying.

So we put on some podcasts. I introduced Maggie to Again With This: 90210 and we listened to them dissect episodes of the great Aaron Spelling genre. It’s one of my go-to podcasts.

Maggie then went on a search and found one that literally had me almost pulling off the road because I was laughing so hard I couldn’t see.

My Dad Wrote A Porno. 

Look it up.

It’s not safe for work, or children, or anyone with a hyper active adversity to anything remotely resembling 50 Shades of Grey.

It’s three people basically doing the same thing, line by line, of the book written by one of the guys’s dads.

They’re British.

It makes it so much better.

Listen to the first one and tell me you don’t gasp for air from all the laughing!

I haven’t listened to anymore because a) I feel like I need Maggs with me and b) it’s dangerous to listen and drive.


Happy Wednesday!

Christmas Adam in July

My stomach muscles are still sore from all of the laughing that happened last week.

Between the road trip you tube playlists, to the inside El Reno jokes that we will spout off forever (#kimono), the rooftop cookies and cocktails, the shiny sparkles at Red Rocks to the general precariousness of 7 women who have never traveled together as a pack before and navigating all of that personality..let’s just say this trip was one none of us will ever forget!

We have so many stories, and our Maggie is really the Chief Storyteller of this tribe, so I have no fear that we will laugh and re-tell and laugh more with each coming year. We ate some many delicious things and the beer….lordahmercy I think we tasted ALL OF THE BEER in the state.

I mean…we tried.

Red Rocks was everything I dreamed it would be and more. I cannot wait to sit next to my husband and soak in some music and look at the skyline of Denver and just be.

I could do without anymore super long road trips for awhile.

Because we’ve all read about how my hormones are just sideways from normal and my ability do negativity and bullshit is quite low. So anyone that needs to drive straight through without stopping will need to take another car next time. I’m laughing as I type that, less anyone gets the wrong idea. I’m laughing. But I’m absolutely one hundred percent serious. Never. Again. (#AlwaysGonnaStop)

I loved this time together, I truly did. This group gets random minutes together during the year, and maybe a few collective hours on Christmas Adam every year. The gift this week was getting to have amazing conversations with women I don’t often get to see, with women I used to see on a daily basis but don’t…life takes us different places but it’s a good, soul filling thing to take the time and make the effort to be together.

I’m exhausted and my liver still aches a bit but my heart is full. It was a great week, and somewhere in Denver there is an Uber driver who is telling anyone who will listen about this group of girls he picked up after the Dolly Parton concert. He was trying to be joe cool and pulled out a cd of Dolly to show us he was hip to our tunes too.

When it proved to be a Christmas cd, which I will maintain forever that he had never listened to before, we all burst forth into song.

The look on his face sent me…literally…into a laughing tizzy. I couldn’t catch my breath. When I did, it was only to belt out some Santa Clause is Coming To Town.

The video has been posted to several of our Instagrams and Facebooks. It’s my favorite thing ever.

Christmas Adam in July was everything I ever hoped it would be.

So much love, followed by so much sleep.




Have you heard the phrase “The best way to get over a guy is to get under another one?”

I think that’s what I’m doing in life right now.

The best way to get over Rock Camp is to pack the car with women that I adore and drive to the mountains to see Dolly Parton at Red Rocks.

The car is cleaner than it’s been in years. The oil and fluids are fresh. The windows sparkle. I’ve got clean clothes that I’ve yet to pack, some folding money, and a ticket on the party bus that will deliver us to and fro the concert.

I’m going into hydrate mode to combat any crazy altitude funk.

I did have a small little hiccup when I went to create a playlist and noticed about 90% of my music library has disappeared. But you know what? Not a big deal.

The only thing that I’m going to spend any energy worrying about today is a hashtag for our trip.

I’ll go to the park tonight to support The Depot and watch Brave Combo.

Tomorrow we ride.